


xxi. harsh climate

by tempestaurora



Series: it's okay, we're okay [whumpvember 2018] [21]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Rescue, Snow, Whumptober, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: “Morning, Mr Stark!”“Hey, Pete,” Tony said, slow, nursing a cup of coffee as the holoscreens in front of him ran projections and numbers, one after another.“Did you see all the snow?” Peter asked, and Tony could hear the wind and distant car horns blaring.“Uh, yeah, I did. I also saw that you’re in your suit.”“Sure am.”“What happened to that little institution called school?”Peter laughed and whooped. Tony was pretty sure he’d done a flip. “Snow day! School’s cancelled!”





	xxi. harsh climate

**Author's Note:**

> oh my GOD  
> this took forever and its not even great guys there was gonna be a whole point with self preservation and there was gonna be whump but i couldn't be bothered so i just talked about rescue a bunch instead. also, i'm posting this with 7 minutes left of the day. u dont know how stressed this prompt made me.
> 
> for the yanks: plaster means band-aid
> 
> I USED TO BE BOWLINGFORNERDS BUT I JUST CHANGED MY USERNAME DONT FORGET ME PLS

Once upon a time, everyone was safe, happy and healthy, and nothing bad ever happened.

Tony _wished._ Nothing was ever that simple in the life of a fucking superhero-billionaire- _moron_ with a dumbass teenager to look after. Especially when neither of them had any self-preservation instincts at all.

“You’re getting better at it,” Pepper had mused only two days earlier when she was sticking a bright pink Peppa Pig plaster over a cut on his forehead. “Really. Not going out on every mission possible. You’re making less suits, spending more time at home. And the other day you unironically bought pot pourri.”

Tony frowned. “The bathroom needed it.”

“I agree,” she said with a nod, then leaned back with realisation. “Oh, I get it now. Self-preservation instincts and being domestic go hand in hand with you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It absolutely is. You’re a trophy housewife and you love it.”

Tony hesitated, then considered for a moment. He shrugged. “At least I’m an attractive trophy housewife.”

Pepper pressed a kiss against his lips before checking her handy work with the plaster one last time. “If you weren’t, I would’ve divorced you for a younger model already.”

“Hey,” he said as she turned to place their makeshift first aid kit back in the kitchen cupboard. “If we have kids I can finally transform into my final form of stay-at-home-dad.”

Pepper laughed and she was the brightest thing in the room. “I’ll get back to you on that one. Besides, you already have a spider child to look after. You’d have your hands full with baby Starks running around.”

“Baby Starks,” Tony noted with a smile. “Plural.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Stop getting into fights with cupboard doors,” she said, gesturing to the cut on his forehead. “Tell Peter he’s invited to dinner on Friday.”

Tony had sent off a text before Pepper had even left the room, a smile firmly on his face as it usually was when he and Pepper talked about their possible family. For most of his life, children hadn’t even fit into the picture of Tony Stark – but in the previous few years, since a certain Parker tripped, stumbling and a little oblivious, into his life, Tony couldn’t imagine anything else.

**_TONY:_ ** _dinner at mine on friday, pepper’s orders_

**_PETER:_ ** _u got it mr stark_

-

 

Self-preservation instincts: something Peter Parker didn’t have.

Friday came around quickly; Tony managing to shirk most of the responsibilities for his company in the meantime and focus more on his personal projects, like fixing FRIDAY’s firewall and improving the spider-drone in Peter’s suit.

Friday morning greeted Tony with a snow storm.

He blinked, staring out at the white-covered city; snow falling at such a fast pace it was a wonder he could see anything at all. From the top floor of Stark Tower, New York looked like a white blanket, spread far and wide beneath a grey sky.

At ten AM, he received the notification that Peter was wearing the Spiderman suit.

Tony frowned, tapping his phone screen and bringing up Peter’s phone number.

He answered on the second ring.

“Morning, Mr Stark!”

“Hey, Pete,” Tony said, slow, nursing a cup of coffee as the holoscreens in front of him ran projections and numbers, one after another.

“Did you see all the snow?” Peter asked, and Tony could hear the wind and distant car horns blaring.

“Uh, yeah, I did. I also saw that you’re in your suit.”

“Sure am.”

“What happened to that little institution called _school_?”

Peter laughed and whooped. Tony was pretty sure he’d done a flip. “Snow day! School’s cancelled!”

“So you thought you’d Spiderman in the snow? Peter, you’re _bad_ with the cold, I thought we talked about this last winter.” Last winter, Peter had frozen to the bone when May’s apartment heating went out. He’d been wearing four layers when May called Tony to ask if Peter could stay at the tower until the heating was fixed. Tony had taken both of them in for three weeks and bought Peter a new winter coat, seeing as his old one was worn and threadbare. He’d also gotten a minor case of _pneumonia_ in the process. Tony was pretty sure they’d dealt with this before.

“It’s fine,” Peter promised. “I’ve got the suit heater on _and_ my Spiderman hoodie _and_ my coat. It’s fine! I’ve never Spidermanned in the snow before!”

“We’ve got to stop using _Spiderman_ as a verb,” Tony muttered before sighing. “Alright, okay. If you’re sure. Don’t be late for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! You guys order the _best_ take out.”

“Hey! What if we were planning on cooking?”

He could hear Peter’s snort over the wind. “Pepper doesn’t like cooking after a day at work and you can’t cook to save your life. If you’re taking votes, mine goes to Chinese, okay?”

Tony rolled his eyes, mentally marking it down. “Alright, Underoos. Go fight crime. And go inside if you get too cold.”

“Yes _Mom_.”

Peter hung up and Tony span around in his chair, once, before dropping his phone back on the desk. “Teenagers,” he muttered.

 

-

 

Peter was late. _Of course he was._

“I told him to get here on time,” Tony muttered, pulling out his phone as Pepper searched the kitchen for plates and cutlery.

“He’s a teenager,” she said with a vague wave of her hand. “They don’t know what punctuality is. Now imagine that but with _children._ They have no time management skills.”

Tony snorted, bringing up Peter’s tracker. “You realise that as the parents, _we’d_ be in charge of their time management, right?”

Pepper hummed as if she wasn’t so sure.

Tony zoomed in on the map that appeared before him and hesitated, finding that Peter was motionless on a Manhattan rooftop about six blocks out from the tower. He checked the logs and found that the suit hadn’t moved for the past hour.

“FRI,” he said, “there haven’t been any notifications of Peter getting hurt today, right?”

“None at all, sir,” FRIDAY replied.

“What’s happening?” Pepper asked, placing the stack of plates on the kitchen table in front of him. She peered over his shoulder at the phone screen.

“He hasn’t moved in a while. He’s half an hour late and he’s spent the last _hour_ above a diner by the park. I’m gonna call him.” Tony frowned then, listening to the phone ringing and not get picked up. A moment later, he checked the map and still found Peter not to be moving – usually when Tony phoned, Peter at least _realised_ he was supposed to be somewhere else.

Pepper breathed out a sigh through her nose. “You’re gonna go and get him, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, quiet. “I’d better. You know you could come, too, right?”

“What about the take out?”

“FRIDAY can just tell the delivery guy to leave it in the elevator. We’ll get it when we come back.” Pepper pursed her lips and Tony knew she was one good excuse from cracking. “We could test run your suit,” he said with a smile.

Pepper’s arms twisted around his neck, a smile playing across her lips. “You mean my _superhero suit_?”

“Yes, Mrs Stark, I mean your super badass superhero suit.”

She hummed once and then smiled. “Okay! Okay. Let’s go pick up your child.”

Tony snorted, taking her outstretched hand to head for the balcony. “We’re married, Pep. He’s yours too, you know.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” she said, opening the door, the cold air rushing at them suddenly. “Because if he’s mine too, I’ll make sure I get custody of him in the divorce.”

Tony gasped. “You would never.”

“ _Watch me._ ”

 

-

 

Pepper had barely winced when Tony had injected the sensors into her arms. She’d been listing off stock prices and key numbers he needed to remember for an upcoming meeting, and she hadn’t even let him know she could even feel it. (Sometimes, Tony thought about Extremis and how he wiped it from her system – sometimes, he wondered if a slither of it remained in the way her eyes shone something dangerous when she was angry, and how pain meant much less to her after having her insides boil.)

 

-

 

They called to the suits in tandem; cold air biting at their skin before metal pieces interlocked around their limbs; shining red and gold for Tony and a sleek purple and black for Pepper. Their faceplates slammed into place last and Tony took an appreciative look at Pepper’s suit, the heaters starting up automatically.

“I should’ve given you a suit years ago,” he commented.

“Yes,” Pepper replied. “You should’ve.”

They shot off into the sky, Peter’s location blinking on their visors. He still hadn’t moved. They raced over, making the distance in only a matter of seconds; Pepper looping in the air as she went just for the hell of it and Tony, taking the time to look at the ant-people on the street, bundled up warm and pointing at the two armoured heroes flying overhead.

“There,” he said, pinpointing the roof next to the park. He landed first, Pepper shortly after and frowned, visor slipping up.

“There’s no one here,” Pepper said, stating the obvious. The roof was entirely empty; just coated with thick snow and—footprints. Tony stepped over to them, looking at how they trailed in circles, slipped about and eventually moved to the edge of the roof where, Tony assumed, Peter had jumped off.

For his own peace of mind, he glanced over the ledge and released a breath at the alley below, empty of vigilantes and injured bodies alike.

“Tony,” Pepper said from behind him. He turned, finding that she’d followed a large loop of the footprints all the way over to the other side of the roof, where the short wall that included the door heading inside stood. She span to face him, holding a ratty backpack in her hands. “Found his suit.”

Tony stepped over as she pulled the familiar fabric of the Spiderman suit out of the pack. The rest of it held a half-read book, a jumble of pens and change and Peter’s house keys with a tiny Iron Man keyring.

“I better get a Rescue line of merch when we officially unveil me to the world,” Pepper said, smirking at the keyring. By holding down a small button on the foot, the arc reactor glowed blue.

“I’m sure you will,” Tony replied. “I’ll get you a Rescue sweatshirt and everything.” He was pretty sure it would be similar to the red one that he owned – only purple with the same arc reactor in the centre of the chest; the power core to the suit. “Let’s focus on finding Peter, first.”

Pepper hummed, zipping the backpack shut and slinging it over her shoulder. Wisps of webbing drifted in the wind. “Call him again.”

Tony did. This time, thank god, Peter picked up.

“Hey!” he said, and Peter could hear chatter and laughter, rather than the wind, this time.

“Hey yourself,” Tony replied, “you had a look at the time recently?”

There was a pause then, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry, Mr Stark! I got totally side-tracked!”

“We noticed.”

He could almost _hear_ Peter’s wince. “Oh my god, is Miss Potts mad at me?”

“It’s Mrs Stark now,” Tony replied, mild, “but no, she isn’t. We came looking for you when you didn’t pick up the phone though. We’ve got your backpack – where are you?”

“I’m at the park over the road,” Peter said and yelped suddenly. “Hey! Unfair! I’m on the phone!”

Tony nodded over to the far side of the roof, where the road was, and Pepper followed him over. Across the road a small park sat, half play park with a jungle gym and swing set, and half a patch of grass. The grass side contained about ten kids, all high school-aged, competing in a snowball fight. The grass was tramped over, the fences and benches were used as cover, and the teenagers were laughing uproariously as they leapt about, pretending to be action heroes as they threw snowballs and dodged dramatically.

“Well this is better than him being tragically injured,” Pepper noted. “So, about 200% better than whatever scenario I was imagining.”

“Agreed,” Tony replied.

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter said, on the phone. Tony noticed him on the far left, hidden behind the bench, his body swamped in his Spiderman hoodie and winter coat. “I can meet you back at the tower or something? Or on the roof? I’ll swing back?”

“Oh, no, kid,” Tony responded with a smile. “I’ve got a better idea.” He hung up, shared a knowing grin with Pepper and the two of them leapt off the roof, flying over to the park.

He heard Peter’s groan beneath the shocked gasps of the teenagers. Tony and Pepper, faceplates removed, looked between the groups.

Tony clapped his hands together. “I wanna be on Pete’s team,” he announced. “Pep, we’re gonna kick your ass.”

She raised her eyebrows, looking over to where Peter was moving out from behind the bench, Ned nearby and in awe, MJ tilting her head at the two of them. “Sorry, sweetie, he called you first. Don’t worry though, I’m getting custody of you in the divorce.”

Peter groaned then shook his head. “I’m not legally your child,” he replied, seemingly deciding it was better to just accept his fate than fight it.

“Key word: legally,” Pepper replied, before spinning on her heel and joining the right-hand team.

“Oh my god, you’re Pepper Potts,” a girl on that team said. She’d later be introduced as Cindy, but for now, Pepper grinned.

“Pepper Stark as of a month and a half ago,” she corrected as she ditched Peter’s backpack with the pile of them by the fence. “But call me Pepper.”

Tony wandered over to the other team, slinging and armoured arm around Peter.

“Are you going to embarrass me?” Peter asked as his friends – Tony recognised them all from the Academic Decathlon team – joined the group huddle.

“Oh absolutely,” Tony replied, “but that’s what you get for being late to dinner. Plus, embarrassing your child is an excellent Dad move and I’m trying to convince Pepper to have kids.”

Peter snorted then let out a bark of laughter when a snowball slammed into the back of Tony’s head. He span around suddenly, seeing Pepper, smirking, her entire team already in defensive positions, each holding a snowball.

“Keep up, short stuff,” she said.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Oh, it’s _on._ ”

 

-

 

(When the three of them returned home that night, freezing, tired and laughing, they found cold Chinese takeaway sitting in the elevator, and elected to just cook a frozen pizza instead.

“Good parenting,” Peter commented, mild, when Pepper asked if he wanted desert. He got a light flick around the ear from Pepper, but Tony winked at him across the table. Yeah, they’d be pretty good parents, he thought, even to ones with little-to-no self-preservation instincts.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading i'm dead goodbye


End file.
